Sometimes, I do wish I owned this trilogy, but alas! I wasn't born when it was originally published. The Forbidden Game belongs to LJ Smith.
"Ah! You swore no complaining, and what's that I'm hearing?"
"Jenny, you're absolutely insane. We cannot-"
"One more word of disagreement out of you tonight, and I'm leaving for another bar. And I'm not saying where." Ha! Gotcha this time!
"…Fine," Julian said, giving up now that Jenny had something over him. Ever since she learned how to cloak her presence with some obscure spell she stumbled upon in a Middle Eastern cave—was it Mesopotamian? God, I can't remember—she's been so damn smug about how she finally had something to taunt him with. Besides, of course, sex.
Jenny could feel the pleasant buzz from her cup of diet coke and rum working its way through her system, weakening her mental and verbal filter. Julian, on the other hand, had nothing, seeming to prefer watching her gradually-worsening antics from across the booth's table. The bar itself wasn't unique or even one of those grimy, low-level ones young teenagers can sneak their way into without any sort of ID. It was just as she planned; a generic, run-of-the-mill bar with average people and an average crime ratings according to some recommendation apps and overall heresy.
Sometimes, it's better to have everything blend together and blur away from the consciousness than to have every detail perfected, thus standing out always.
"Eh, lighten up." Jenny took another sip from her drink. "At least it isn't a strip club."
Julian choked, coughing to rid himself of that stinging sense of uncomfortableness. "This is why I don't like you drinking," he said, somehow maintain that smooth, elemental voice of his, "I can never guess what nonsense you'll be spewing next."
"'Spewing'," Jenny snorted, "Who says that nowadays?" Seven years: that's how long it's been since she gave up and consented. Over the years, like with any other functional and healthy couple, fights broke out, make-ups (and -outs) were made, moments shared, and the polar opposites found a common hobby. Teasing required wit, sass, and if to be done without hurting your target's feelings, some sort of affection. As they had all three, it only made sense that the hobby emerged after that general awkward stage dissipated. God, that seems to be ages ago. "It's such a weird word… Spew."
Jenny brought the cup once again to her lips only to not be met with carbonated juice, chemicals, and spiced alcohol. Groaning, she dropped her head to the table, making a satisfying thunk! She held up her empty cup, forehead still against the hard wood. "Refill, babe?" If Julian was still annoyed by their surroundings, he didn't show it. He gave a small smile as he grabbed Jenny's glass and set it in front of him.
"Want something different this time, or are we sticking with rum and coke?" he said.
She returned back to a sitting position, but set her elbows on the hard surface, using her hands as a stand for her chin. "You know my answer, idiot, now get to it." Surprise me.
Pulling out a clouded glass bottle from his jacket pocket, Julian poured a clear liquid into the cup. The bottle was the same one he used before—and always, really—but it was never filled with the same drink; Jenny had yet to get the same concoction twice in a row. Or, really, twice ever. One of the lesser known perks of magic, she guessed
"Thanks," Jenny said, drawing out the 'a', when he handed her back the now-filled glass. She took a swig and then sputtered, spilling it over the tabletop and her sweater. "Ohmygod, what is that?" Jenny spat, partially words and partially the drink itself.
"Why, don't you like it?" His voice was light and mocking.
Jenny slammed the cup down and leaned her head back, instantly triggering a wave a dizziness. When had she gotten drunk? I hadn't had that much to drink… Did I?
"No…" she whined, "You know I don't like peppermint! An-and who thought peppermint and alcohol went together? God, you're a jerk." Jenny then giggled, fitting the stereotype of every drunk blonde girl ever. "But…"
Julian leaned closer towards Jenny, folding his arms and looking at her with nothing but playfulness. "But?"
She grinned like the Cheshire Cat, and her face was pink. Whether it was from the stuffiness of the bar or her drunken state, Jenny didn't know. "But, I still love you," she said, cocking her head to the side.
"Yea?"
The rest of the rowdy bar shut itself out of her sensory range, or maybe it just ceased existing. Sometimes that happened when the couple went out; it felt like the whole world revolved around them and their unlikely relationship. Talk about being self-centered, right? "Yea."
"Well, I guess that's acceptable," Julian purred, going back to his previous position of resting against the booth's cheap, fake-leather seat. How can he always look so damn hot and casual?
The next few moments were spent in silence, not that anything needed to be said. Jenny remembered an albeit foggy memory of a classmate commenting on how silence can be comfortable if there's love, but she didn't need a rumor to confirm that. Years of experience spoke for themselves, ya know?
Speaking of foggy memories, Jenny couldn't recall how she convinced Julian to dress, well, normal for once. It was only black clothes with a touch of exoticism for him. Now, however, he wore a black hoodie with a blue graphic on it. Blue. And a hoodie! Color and casualness! Julian didn't part with his black jeans that hugged his legs—not that she was complaining—and combat boots of the same color, but Jenny would definitely say that it was an improvement. Or was it a work-in-progress? Specifics, schmecifics
Sure, they didn't really have to fit in, but it was more fun that way. Blending in with the locals, acting as if you weren't living in some obscure plane of existence with your not-at-all-a-demon spouse whose hobbies included physical torture, mind games, and watching time fly by on Earth like it was the latest reality show though it kinda is, catching up with international drama by doing something other than read the paper: Jenny loved it.
In a way, these outings kept her human. She never changed her character or values, no, but returning to her original home always had a way of grounding her, even if she couldn't describe how. The only way that came close to it was like how most people visit their parents around the holidays; they didn't rely on them anymore nor did they want to, but coming back would bring back the memories, bring back the person's roots, reminding them who they were and how much they've grown. It's sentimental Jenny thought whilst in the middle of a mock-staring contest with Julian.
And I'm too drunk to think about it. Jenny backed away from his gaze, forfeiting the match in favor of downing the shitty-tasting drink. Ignoring both the burn of the alcohol and the overpowering sweetness of the mint, Jenny slammed the cup down on the table again.
"I've never seen you drunk, Julian," she started, putting much effort into not sounding incoherent or like her tongue had swollen to the size of a golf ball.
He shrugged. "I guess not."
"Why not?" Jenny asked before making a conclusion-hopping realization. "Wait, can you even get drunk?" Not having that option open to her, not being able to enjoy the blissful tingling that accompanies the bottom of the bottle, that's hell. Sure, she didn't drink all that often, but it was nice every once and a while to numb out the complexities of her life and the pain of her old friends brought if she was too tired to deal with it like the totally mature woman was. Totes sophisticated, yep.
Letting out a small laugh, Julian sat up straight, perfect posture and everything. Gah, stop being perfect physically, jerk. "Yes, I can. And don't look so upset about it if that wasn't the case."
"Julian, we're at a fucking bar. You don't need to ar-ti-cu-late everything you say," Jenny laughed, trying to ease him into being, well, normal. Shoving the cup in his face, she put on the most serious face she could muster. However, her drunken state overestimated how much to exaggerate the tenseness of her eyebrows, and rather than a semi-frown, her mouth slightly puckered. "Drink this vile shit."
Julian couldn't help it, nor did he try to stop himself from laughing. Jenny looked ridiculous; she was being ridiculous, and she knew it. For that, Julian took the peppermint vodka from her weak hands and downed it in one go, no flinching, no awkward "ah!" from the shock of the burn and sugar. "Alright, but I blame you if anything happens."
"Ich liebe dich," Julian breathed into the crook of her neck. It was hazy, but Jenny vaguely remembered Julian crawling over to her booth. It must've happened after he got up to yell at some sleazy college student for gawking at Jenny. Of course, the fact that he was screaming in Old Norse mixed with a handful of German insults just made him even more intimidating.
Oh! Now she remembered! Jenny stopped the intoxicated—and intoxicating—Julian from damning the poor kid and dragged him back to the table. That also explained the empty bottle of mead that was about to fall out of his grip. Wait. No it didn't. Where the hell…?
Jenny was brought back to reality when she felt a sharp bite at her neck. Raising her alcohol-heavy arm, she pushed Julian away, creating a space the span of a few inches between them. For a split-second, she felt bad for stopping him; he looked so hurt. It's too bad she had too much, otherwise she'd be able to remember the uncharacteristic, puppy-look he sported. Cute…
"Was ist unrecht?"
Jenny had to try so damn hard not to bust out giggling; she's never seen him like this before. "You're stuck in… German, I think. I-I can't understand what you're saying, Jules." She covered her mouth with one hand in a wasted effort to control herself, but hey, no filter means no filter. Not wanting to see him more upset—although the idea of Julian full-on pouting was hilarious—she scooched close, so close that she could have been technically on his lap. Swigging her arm over his waist, Jenny leaned her heavy head against his chest. "German sounds nice on you."
"That didn't make any sense, Schönheit."
"Your German doesn't make any sense."
Julian scoffed, wrapping his own arm around Jenny, pulling her closer. "Says you. I'm fluent." His upset mood seemingly gone, he planted a quick kiss to the top of her honey-blonde head.
Jenny hummed when he repeated the action; it was soothing, the kisses, cuddling, and the blurriness from drinking. We should get outta here… She smiled at the one coherent thought amongst the jumbled phrases and wants floating in her sloshed mind.
Poking Julian's side, Jenny raised her head so that her mouth met his ear. "Let's go home," she breathed, noting in her intoxicated state how he reacted when her warm breath met his cool skin. Jenny let her finger run up and down his torso and cocked her head, a gesture she learned from the man she was teasing.
With that, they were gone. Literally, they vanished, melting into the shadows of their booth, their tab unpaid and the various bottles they drank out of littered the table, booth, and floor. When thinking about it later in her shift, the bartender couldn't recall anyone to have been there all night, which was odd considering how packed it was last night.
Maybe she ought to stop sneaking sips from the merchandise during work.
Ich liebe dich - I love you
Was ist unrecht? - What's wrong?
Schönheit - Beauty
Yes, I used Google Translate, but I also used my 2 yrs of Deutsche Klassen as some additional help. Although I doubt that I got the translations wrong, do correct me if I do.
Did I drink while writing parts of this? I'll never tell...
Don't forget to R/R. Really, it motivates me so much. (And if ZombieVampireAuthor is reading this, I'd love to beta for you or do a collab notice me sempai)